Forgotten Memories by Jennifer Newman (top 10 most read books in the world TXT) 📕

realized we were behind a pillar hidden away from the rest of the dance, yet all my sense told me this is where I wanted to be.
How many of the girl here didn’t want to be, did they have some where better to be? With a lover maybe, or in a library reading to ones content? How many of the couples dancing together were just for show, does every single one of them feel the love that is glowing out of the rare few? Is it there obligation as a rich man’s daughter to dance with the eligible bachelors here? What if there was someone else? Would they be standing right where I am, staring into the eyes of another? Hidden from the rest of society, hidden as almost any disgrace would be.
I stared into the pools of blue, a sense of urgency and suspense in the air as slowly we leaned towards each other- BANG!
The sound bought me hurtling back to the present where there was no blazing lights glistening in a happier John’s eyes, no dancing couples trotting around each other no daring to put a foot out of line. We were no longer hidden behind a pillar, hidden from prying eyes.
We were out in the middle of a hall, a hall where we were no longer along for the slam of a door had echoed right behind us.
“Nora, what are you doing? Oh John is that you, I see you got the message I sent you.” Aunt Tess came around from the side, coming into view as I quickly took a step back and lowered my gaze; it felt weird to suddenly look away from the pools of blue and down to a dark brown carpet.
“Yeah dad said you need help with the garden, I’ll get the stuff tomorrow if you show me what you need now-“ I quickly excused myself to get my camera still in a daze from what had just happened. For it was one thing to image what it would have been like to live here when it was first made but another to actually get sucked into it. Yet the feeling was so familiar that all the smells and sounds bought back other memories. Memories I am sure I have not encountered personally.
I turned into my bed room grabbing my camera, after all that was what I had been coming here for in the first place, but the picture I had wanted would for sure be long gone by now.
I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking about what my imagination could come up with sometimes. Well I guess and over active imagination and a load of history books really are not a good combination... Yet somewhere in the back of my brain there was something telling me that this was not so, those images were too vivid, to real to be anything other than a memory, I dismissed this idea straight away. Its nonsense is all.
I had only just realized however that my imagination had placed John in servant’s clothes. One that was very common, according to the books I read today, for servants of the McBride house hold.
A casual look across the halls, a quick word behind closed and locked doors. And the occasional whispered convocation. This is what my dreams that night consisted off. Repeats of the same memories over and over again. I would wake up to the sound of my heart beating in an offbeat rhythm, and a sinking in my heart. My body betraying me by wanting the dreams to not end. That is the last time I read so many history books in one day.
After I had grabbed my camera mu Aunt had got me washing dishes while making polite convocation with Edward. Not exactly my idea of fun. My camera had lain longingly on the side while we talked. The convocation flowing from one subject to the next, Edward was not actually that bad a guy, but he still reminded me of my past, the me of 2 months ago would have jumped at the chance to flirt outrageously with this guy, but the me of today could not find it in herself to even try.
After about half an hour I had done with the dishes and Aunt Tess had come back in with a distracted John. By now it was around 8:30pm and surprisingly I was ready to pass out. But after a long goodbye to both John and Edward I made my way back to the dining room and grabbed my camera off the side. I had been away from my pictures for too long and I was having withdrawal symptoms. I needed to take a little bit of the world and snap it into one frame. Taking one aspect of a life and capturing it. Whither that be of a person, living organism or some sort of inanimate object, and the garden had been calling to me. so that is where I shall go.
In the rain you could hardly see any of the glorious plants yet now in the twilight it left another light to be seen. Holding the camera unto my face, the small square of land covered my screen, enhancing the brightened objects and leaving the shadows to grow. Each picture I snapped was different none were the same; none could ever be the same. You could snap a picture one second and with in that same breath snaps another yet both of these could be completely different. Something might have moved, some colour would have changed. There would be an element of different in each picture and that is what I loved. Lining up printed picture next to printed picture, creating a slide show of moving images. The movement of water, the fall of an object. My favourite one being the jump of people. You can see each muscle change to create the jump. The leg muscles pushing them of the ground, and into the air. The arms rising; to reach more height. I loved to watch the change as gravity pulled them back down to earth, the strength of the jump vs. the strength of the gravitational pull. To me this was magic.
I was out there until the sun had completely set leaving no light at all to take pictures. I trailed my tired feet into the house and clumsily up the stairs. The lights in the landing were off making the halls dark and gloomy. I did not care, for I was near to passing out from exhaustion. I might get up early but god damn it I liked my sleep.
My room was the first on the left and I quickly pulled myself into the room and collapsed on the bed. Oh how comfy. I sat up and quickly changed into my PJ’s before once again collapsing from exhaustion. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light.
The sun was setting outside my bedroom window; this is the time he usually comes. Oh I can’t wait! I have heard so much from the other girls about the times in which they have sneaked out. The countless stories they have told have enticed me. Yet here I am sitting at my window seat waiting for my Quinn. The man I was forbid to have even the most unimportant of convocations with, but it was not just him it was all the staff. Father didn’t like my view on things. He said I was to optimistic. ‘Living in a world of my damn own’ he has told me time and time again. Yet I can’t help it. I think I love him.
The sun had set at this point and I was dreamily looking out the window waiting impatiently for my Quinn to come, that I hadn’t noticed the door open and close. By the time I had turned I realized that it was my Mother and Father who stood stock still in the doorway.
“Oh Mother, Father what brings you here?” I quickly stand and curtsey for my parents. For the seriousness on my father’s face scares me. Yet the joyous look my mother holds raises my spirits , it cannot be bad news if mother is smiling. My sisters always say that if one is serious the other will always smile. This is has been proven countless times by my parents yet my other sister continues to ignore it and go by her ‘own way of thinking’. She is the rebel out of us all; no matter how taboo that word is I cannot think of a better to describe her nature. While my other sister Gracie is the rule abiding daughter. While others sneak out at night she will be at home, in her room practising her ‘duty’. You could not find two sisters more unlike each other.
“We bring you great news, Annabel. And with it comes great responsibility.” My father starts off. Looking me dead in the eye before looking over to the window quickly, and glancing back, “Our great neighbour and friend Mr. Rivers has asked for your hand in marriage...”
I woke with a start.
Marriage.
Mr. Rivers? Now why did that sound so familiar?
I have got to stop reading history books all day. It has really started to mess up my dreams, that one had seemed too real, I could feel the fabric of the dress dream me had been wearing, the smells of expensive fragrances had clung to the air. And the feel of impatiens turning to shock and dismay felt so real I could feel my heart beat wit every change of emotion. How could someone have such a vivid imagination?
I closed my eyes once more hoping to enter a dreamless sleep without any more weird dreams. Thankfully my wish was granted and I drifted off into darkness.
Chapter Five: Sunday 8:30am
I had pushed the dream from last night to the back of my mind for the time being. I didn’t really want to contemplate what my subconscious was trying to tell me. Something was trying to tell me something but I just didn’t want to know, way too many complications could lead from dreams.
The night before hadn’t been the first time I had had a dream like that, but when I questioned Dad he just laughed and said I had an over imaginative imagination. If only I could explain it so easy, because I was sure John had felt, seen it too yesterday. I could have been on my own, could I?
This is why I pushed all thought of yesterday to the back of my mind, too many questions that I didn’t have the answers to, too many thoughts and opinions on the subject for me to even make a coherent thought. But I will not think of it now.
The garden in the day was a whole other story to last night when I was out capturing images, because although the night bought out a mysterious side to the plants and hidden archways. The light illuminated the whole area. You could see every detail of the plants leaves as you walked past. Rain drops glistering in the blinding sun; hearing the soft wet grass crunch under foot. You would never find something like this back in the city. It was almost magical.
“Nora, Honey. Are you out there?” The sound of my Aunts voice carried to me as I walked behind one of the many high growing bushes.
“Yeah” I walked back around so I was facing the house once again in all its glory. The night had not done justice to the house either, as the bricks almost shone in the early